Summer Lovin'

I have been completely MIA and not just from blogging. I feel like life has just been flying by me! The past few weeks have been a blur with all of our summer activities. I can't believe that this week will be the middle of July. It feels like Memorial Day was this past weekend. Oh no, wait, that was just Independence Day.

Our biggest news of the summer is that James had his springs removed!! YAY! We went in for surgery on June 26 and everything went great. No overnights in the PICU and a fairly smooth recovery at home after a one-night stay at the hospital.

Thomas has been my busy little bee. A week after participating in his very first VBS, he participated in his first soccer camp at our church. He had a blast, although drop-offs were a little rough some days. This past week and next week are swim lessons for Little Man. If you read my post about our swimming debacle then you know swimming has not been an easy one, but now I'm scared he is going to start growing gills.

This summer has been interesting for me personally as well. I decided to take not one, but two bible studies with our women's ministry. Both are challenging me in ways that I never thought possible. I feel more spiritually sound than I have in almost a decade. The past three years have been very difficult for me, and I am finally learning to have peace and assurance that God has something planned despite all of this brokenness.

I saw this quote on Facebook over the Fourth of July weekend and am clinging to it as my new favorite verse.

Speaking of the Fourth, check out this cutie-patootie.

All in all we are having a great summer. I am exhausted but the kids are having a blast and that's all that matters.

Now, will someone bring me a cup of coffee?

Diving In?

From the first time I put Thomas in a swimming pool, I just knew he was going to be a little fish. He had absolutely no fear of water. It was actually kind of scary at times. He loved to splash, loved to run in it, play in it. It was his favorite place to play.

Last year, just after his third birthday, I bought floaties for him to learn how to really swim, certain that we would be using them all summer long. The little booger only wore them one time and screamed the whole time he was in them. The rest of the summer he refused to get in the pool, opting instead to sit on the steps with no more than his ankles under water.

Since we no longer live in an apartment with a pool, and our neighborhood doesn't have one, I opted to join the Family Y for the summer so we could use its pool. I was hesitant after what happened last year with Thomas, but I figured he has to learn at some point.

Monday morning I told Thomas to come upstairs so we could get dressed. At the first sight of his bathing suit he began screaming. I told him that we were just going to play on the splash pad, which still was unacceptable to him. I pulled up a video on my iPad of a splash pad, but he still was not on board with the day's activity. I finally got him ready and somewhat excited about going. 

After dropping James off at the nursery, Thomas and I headed toward the splash pad. Unfortunately, to get to the outdoor splash pad, you have to walk by in the indoor pool. Cue massive freak-out. I had to pick him up, kicking and screaming, and carry him outside.

He eventually calmed down and, well, just see for yourself:

At one point, he even got brave enough to try the water slide. I pointed out to him that when he got to the bottom he would land in the water, but I would catch him if he wanted to do it. "Okay, Momma!" he exclaimed as he headed toward the stairs. 

Enter Debbie-Downer Lifeguard who informed us that he had to pass a swim test and get a bracelet in order to go down the slide. Boo. I explained to Thomas that he would have to learn how to swim if he wanted to go on the slide.

That must have stuck with him because yesterday, this happened:

As parents, we want our kids to learn new things, especially major skills like swimming, reading or learning to drive a car. When we rush those things, it makes life frustrating for us and them. Instead of feeling accomplished when they finally achieve those moments, they feel like they have finally measured up and begin dreading what the next expectation will be.

So for now I will celebrate that he is learning to swim. He has confidence in himself and that will help him with future activities. He is proud of himself and so am I. I should stop expecting him to dive in and be thankful that he is getting in the water at all.

Even if it is one toe at a time.

Milestones

This past week has been a week filled with milestones for our family. I can't believe everything that has taken place for us and all the things I know are about to happen.

First of all, my "baby," Thomas, turned four. Four. How the heck did that happen?! He should still be learning to roll over, and yet today I went to sign him up for soccer camp and Pre-K. I guess time flies when you're having fun.

Now our real baby, James, is on to eating solid foods. I wasn't sure how he would do since Thomas absolutely hated solid foods until about eight months old. It wasn't love at first taste, but James did great after he got used to the rice cereal and has already to pureed veggies which he loves.

Brian and I are getting into some great business opportunities with Startup Augusta, and Brian is serving as a mentor for the organization. I am also now a contributor to Augusta Moms and am SO excited to be writing again. I can't wait to share some of my recipes and other articles over there, but I'll still be maintaining my blog here.

Speaking of the blog, thanks to a little push from our local Christian radio station when I won their recipe of the week contest, I reached 4,000 hits on my blog today. I know that's not much compared to many blogs out there, but it is definitely a good starting point for me that I am very excited about.

It's times like this when I have to thank God for everything He is doing in my life and the lives of my family. We are blessed so much more than we could ever deserve, and I can't wait to see where He leads us next.

Shaving Cream Slip and Slide

I am so thankful that our cold weather is finally behind us! This weekend was the perfect opportunity to try out something I saw on Pinterest a few months ago--a Shaving Cream Slip and Slide.

We used plastic tablecloths and spread them out on the lawn. Luckily it wasn't too windy so they stayed down pretty well. I hosed them down with some water and then coated them with cheap shaving cream. I let the shaving cream heat up and start to get real slippery before letting the boys get on it. They were hesitant at first, only wanting to run on it. Eventually the shaving cream got too slippery to walk on without them slipping on it! They had a blast!

Taming the Picky Eater

When Brian and I first started dating I remember him giving me a rundown of a typical meal when Jason and Dylan were at his place: McDonald's burgers and nuggets, sandwiches, snack foods and lots and lots of sweets. After I began making meals for them, I quickly learned that Jason pretty much only ate a few things: chips, some types of crackers, protein bars, yogurt and McDonald's chicken nuggets and fries. If we ventured out to a restaurant other than McD's, Brian frequently brought yogurt or a protein bar to feed Jason because he refused to eat anything else on the menu.

After a few weeks, I had to speak my mind on the matter. I researched some ways to get him to eat new things and so far this is what has worked for us.

1) Make a plan and stick to it.
None of our success would have been possible if we didn't stick to what we have told him from the beginning. There was A LOT of pouting and crying when we first started doing this, but we made it clear that he needed to start eating more than junk food.

2) No short order cooking.
I made it clear that I was not Waffle House or Burger King at dinner time. I would prepare a meal and he could eat it or not. Giving him a separate meal from the rest of the family was not an option, including when we went out to eat. If he chose not to eat then he could wait until the next meal or snack in 3-4 hours. (Jason is a very healthy height and weight for his age so we knew we were not starving him. I would not recommend this for any child who is underweight.)

3) Fix his plate.
Knowing that he would never put a hamburger on his plate, we put everything served at a meal on his plate. This at least put the food item in front of him where he could be exposed to it more than usual. We didn't heap corn on his plate the first time, but did give him a small scoop of it and encouraged him to eat it.

4) Don't force feed him.
As much as we wanted to "make" him try something, ultimately the decision was his on whether or not to eat. Creating a stressful time for him at mealtimes was not going to help him try new foods and was just going to leave us feeling stressed.

5) Don't withhold dessert.
This one was the hardest for me to stick to. I grew up being told that if I didn't finish my dinner, then I wouldn't get to eat dessert, thus making me finish my "icky" food so I could get the good stuff. All this message does is confirm that the veggies and protein on your plate are "icky," and you've got to finish it to get to the good stuff. One small dessert is okay for even the pickiest eater. Remember that not all desserts have to be super sugary--strawberries and low-fat Cool Whip can be just as sweet as a piece of cake.

6) Include things he will eat.
Sure, we can have potato chips for dinner...with a piece of baked chicken and green beans on the side. If nothing on his plate looks appealing, then he's not going to eat anything. Sprinkle a few things he likes and he's more apt to try other things on his plate.

7) No seconds until everything on your plate is finished.
Early on, Jason tried to get us to give him extra bread or french fries but would not touch the other things on his plate. We simply told him if he was still hungry he could finish what was on his plate and then get seconds, or he could wait until dessert or snack time. This is a little different from #5 because we were not withholding the item from him, just limiting it and making sure he doesn't get full on the wrong things.

8) Be encouraging.
When Jason would try something new, even if he didn't like it or even if it was something not particularly healthy, we practically threw him a parade to show him how proud we were of him.

9) Get his input.
I would often ask for his request for dinner so he felt included in the meal preparation. As he is getting older I am also letting him help out with meals more often. One night all the boys made their own pizzas. Jason did not eat his, but he at least participated and was introduced to something new.

10) Be patient.
Don't expect a miracle overnight. We have been doing this for about a year and a half, and since we only have him about 45% of the time, it is taking a little longer than we would like. Jason has still not tried any type of beef or pork but has tried different variations of real chicken. He also eats a good range of fruits and vegetables and has toned down on the sweets.

Things Not to Say (or do) to a NICU Momma

My son was born premature at 30 weeks due to complications I had from preeclampsia. He spent seven weeks in the neonatal intensive care unit at our local hospital. I cannot compare the pain I experienced in a single word or perhaps even an entire blog entry. It was enormous. Throughout the experience we felt the love and compassion of so many people.

And then there were the jerks. The ones who pried a little too much, didn't know what to say and others who lacked any common decency at all. And I realize that not many people have encountered a person with a child in the NICU, but it doesn't make some of these comments/questions/actions hurt any less.

1. "Oh, X number of weeks? That's not too bad."
From the moment a woman discovers she is pregnant, she dreams of holding that baby. Nursing him. Loving him. Bringing him home and gathering with friends and family to celebrate this new life. NICU parents don't get these oppotunities as soon as their child is born. For a month I could only hold my son for 20 minutes a day. I was told when to hold him, how to hold him and was often told to leave the room if another baby had to be treated or a new baby was about to be admitted. I had to untangle multiple cords that were attached to his teeny body each time I held him or changed his diaper. Mix in three other children who are not allowed to see their new brother and are confused about what is going on and you have yourself a mentally, physically and spiritually draining experience and no matter how long or short the stay is, it feels like an eternity.

2. "Where's your baby?"
The night I was discharged from the hospital I waited in the lobby for my husband to pick me up. There I was--suitcase, flowers, balloons and a visible post-baby belly. But no baby. A woman walked by and asked where I got one of my balloons. I simply told her that I received it from a family member and didn't know. She nodded and then looked around me. "Where's your baby?" I wanted to scream at her. I wanted to tell her what an insensitive person she was. I wanted to let her know the pain I was already experiencing without her blatantly pointing out that I didn't have my baby with me. Instead I simply told her he was in the NICU and she walked away without an apology.
The fact is, a lot of babies DON'T make it out of the hospital and many mommas leave the hospital empty handed for a variety of reasons.

3. "When is he getting out of the hospital?"
This question is a little more understandable, but sometimes equally as frustrating as the others. NICU doctors know that parents have one thing on their mind--bringing their baby home. For this reason they are very hesitant to give a specific date on when babies will join their parents outside the walls of the hospital. Three different doctors gave us three different estimates on when James would be coming home. There were certain criteria he had to meet before he left and he didn't really meet any of them when we thought he would. He was off of oxygen for weeks and then suddenly had to be put back on it when he began to have trouble breathing. That was a set back. Three babies that were admitted after him and around the same gestational age were released two weeks before him. That was an emotional set back. NICU stays are a day-to-day waiting game. We really were not expecting him to come home when he did. We showed up at the hospital one day and they gave us about two days notice when they had JUST told us he would be there at least another week. So most parents never know when their little one will be joining them.

4. That face you make when I tell you how old he is.
You asked. I told you. Please don't give him (or me) the look like we are the freaks. I could go on and give you the whole schpeel about how he is two and a half months old, but he was born 10 weeks premature so he is really more like 4 weeks, but frankly that's none of your business and I don't have time for anything outside of small talk with strangers. I'm sorry that my five pound 12 ounce two and half month old is smaller than your newborn child/grandchild/niece/nephew/friend's baby. Congrats to you or them on getting a "normal" pregnancy and birth experience though.

5. "Is he going to have any...you know...problems?"
This is a question every preemie parent asks themselves at some point, but it just stings when other people ask it. Yes, he will be developmentally delayed for about the first two years. Will he have physical or mental handicaps that will last the rest of his life? I don't know and only time will tell. Until then I am just trying to enjoy being Momma to this precious tiny miracle that I had the privilege of watching grow and develop outside of the womb.



I think most NICU parents know that others are trying to help with some of their comments (such as #1) or they have just a general curiosity or concern. But what helps more than anything is just a simple "we're thinking of you" or a listening ear.

****
NICU moms and dads--what were some things you heard that you didn't particularly care for?

My Breastfeeding Journey: Then and Now

Now that I am nursing James, I took a moment to look back at an old blog post I did while trying to nurse Thomas. This serves as my reminder NOT to give up with James, but even if I do, it will be okay. : )

November 19, 2010

During my pregnancy I initially thought I would formula feed. As a type 1 diabetic, I would have to maintain excellent blood sugars if I wanted to breastfeed and with hormonal changes and the stress of a new baby, I wasn't sure I could do it. After learning more about breastfeeding I decided that I would give it a shot--if it worked, great; if not, no big deal.

On May 20 I gave birth to a beautiful 6 pound 12 oz. baby boy who we named Thomas. He was the absolute light of my life from his first breath. After he was weighed and given the initial check up, the nurse asked if I wanted to breastfeed and I said yes. I held Thomas and...nothing. This went on for about 15 minutes before the nurse said they needed to take him to the nursery and check his blood sugar (a very important task when dealing with the baby of a diabetic).

I gave him to the nurse and we reunited in our Mother/Baby room. We tried again and Thomas still would not latch properly. I finally had to express some milk in a cup and deliver it to him via syringe. We fell asleep and continued trying to nurse the next day. With visitors coming in and out all day and Thomas dealing with the drowsiness from his circumcision, it wasn't easy, but we kept trying with the help of the lactation specialists. That night, my husband went home to get a good night's rest and I said I would stay up with Thomas and work on nursing.

Not 20 minutes after my husband left the nurse came in to tell me that Thomas had jaundice. He would have to sleep on the bilibed that night and she stressed that he really needed to eat to "poop" out the excess bilirubin. I tried to leave him on the bed as much as possible, but also continued trying to nurse. He hated the bed, and I hated watching him on it. At one point the nurse came in to check on us and Thomas was wailing on the bilibed. The nurse very rudely told me that I could not continue to "starve" my baby. I kept trying to breastfeed, but finally I broke down and called the nursery to request a formula bottle. I cried the whole time I fed him from the bottle.

We went home the following day and I continued to try to breastfeed, but he was so hungry we had to give him a bottle. I asked the lactation specialists if I could just pump and give him a bottle and she looked at me like I was crazy and told me, "Oh no, you definitely don't want to do that." After about a week we finally gave up breastfeeding completely and went to formula.

At about two months postpartum I began hearing about relactating. I had regretted not trying hard enough to breastfeed and thought I would give it a shot. I began taking Fenugreek and Reglan, started eating oatmeal like crazy and pumped 8-10 times a day. On August 17 Thomas successfully latched and I don't think I had ever been happier. I don't know what happened, but about a week later, Thomas stopped latching properly again. He would scream, arch his back and showed no interest in nursing. I continued pumping and giving him breastmilk from a bottle, against the wishes of the lactation consultant.

Around this time, I started feeling very depressed. I talked with my doctor and was diagnosed with PPD. He put me on Paxil and was sure I'd feel better. But I didn't. It got much worse. I got to the point where I didn't want to get out of bed, I couldn't eat and I hated even holding Thomas. I was having panic attacks that left me breathless and fearing being in public, which is a huge part of my job. I went back to the doctor and he suggested I take Xanex. The only drawback--I would have to stop breastfeeding/pumping. I bawled like a baby when he told me that. I had worked so hard to give my baby breastmilk and now I was going to have to give it up because I was losing my mind. However, I knew that if I didn't take the Xanex then my life was in danger and my son didn't deserve that.

Last night I gave my son his last bottle of breastmilk. It was bittersweet. I know I did the best I could for him. I love him and I show it in so many other ways besides breastfeeding. I'll never have silver or diamond boobies, but my son will have his mommy...and he seems pretty happy with that.

Update: Thomas will be four in May and is a smart, funny, outgoing little boy. He gets the occasional cold but has never been what I would call a "sick" kid. He is absolutely awesome as a formula baby!



A Letter to My Sons

Dear Boys,
When you read this, I hope that I have already taught you many of these things, but since I am having so much fun playing with you, holding you and taking care of you when you don't feel well, I just want to make sure you have some record of some of the traits that are so important to live a meaningful life in case I don't get around to telling you.

10. Know Your History
George Santayana said that those who do not know history are doomed to repeat it. Learn from your mistakes. Learn from others' mistakes. Do not consider yourself immune to consequences that have happened over and over again. Learn what works and what doesn't, but don't be afraid to pave your own path.

9. Take Photos
You may not always have your camera or phone available to actually strike a photo, but never underestimate the value of a mental picture. Live in the moment. Cherish time spent with friends and family.

8. Be Thankful
Do not take anything you have for granted. As quickly as it was given to you, it can be taken away. If you are truly grateful for everything you have, then you will never desire anything that you don't have.

7. Remember Who You Are and Who You Represent
Wherever you go you are sending a message. You can choose to spread love, kindness, joy, laughter and respect--or you can be a jerk. Remember what you were taught by those around you and those that love you. Actions speak louder than words.

6. Work Hard
You are entitled to nothing. If you want a better life, you have to work for it. Period. Number 7 will be much easier to do when you can look at your life and say that you have worked for everything you have.

5. Take Care of Yourself
While it's important to love and take care of others, do so in moderation. You are no good to anyone if you never take time for yourself. Relax. Take time to learn and reflect on your relationship with Christ.

4. Laugh at Yourself
Remain humble in all things. When you make a mistake, shake it off and learn from it (see #10) and know that you are human. Living too seriously can be just as damaging as living too carelessly. Find a place in the middle and strive for perfection, but give yourself a break when you fall short.

3. Find a Woman to Love and Never Let Her Go
Got a girl? Good. Love her? Great. Now tell her and show her that EVERY. SINGLE. DAY. Not just on her birthday or Christmas or that stupid day in mid-February. Every day. Support her and lead her. Let her cry on your shoulder and feel free to cry on hers. Don't let her run away from you no matter what. Do whatever you can to make her feel secure in your relationship and both of your lives will be incredible and your children will thank you for it.

2. Love One Another
I mean this in a broad sense and more specific one. Yes, you should love everyone you come in contact with. This will be much harder than it sounds. People will hurt you, put you down and do things that you didn't think were even possible, let alone humane. The best practice for that is for the two of you to love one another. Yeah, you're gonna fight over toys, TV shows, girls, friends and so much more. Learn to love one another through all of that and loving others will almost come naturally for you.

1. Love God
Everything else will fall into place if you follow this one principle. When you love God, it transforms you. It changes everything that you want to do and makes you do what you need to do.
I love you both so much and want only the best for you. I will love you no matter what.

Love,
Momma
*****


What tips/values would you like to share with your child(ren)?

James David King: A Birth Story

The past week and a half has been incredibly difficult and while I'm sitting at this keyboard, I still find it difficult to put into words exactly what I am feeling.

Last night, at 5:58, I gave birth to a tiny little miracle. At just 2 pounds 12 ounces, James David entered my life and this world just a little sooner than we anticipated.

It all started on November 7 when I went in for my weekly appointment with my high risk doctor. My blood pressure was high again and she decided to keep me for 24-hour observation at the hospital. They would do a 24-hour urine collection to determine if I had preeclampsia and make decisions from there.

As I feared, I did have preeclampsia. The protein in my urine was just at the level where they diagnose pre-e: 300. My doctor informed me that I would be on bed rest for the remainder of my pregnancy and she wanted to keep me another day. Great.

The following day, Saturday, I was fully prepared to start packing to go home. Until Dr. Ware showed up. She informed me that the protein had doubled over night and that it was an indicator that things could get really bad with the pre-e. They would begin steroid shots to build up James' lungs in case we needed to deliver early.

My protein levels continued to rise and despite being on blood pressure medicine, my blood pressure was still spiking at times. On Tuesday morning I woke up and felt like someone was sitting on my chest. I couldn't breathe. I could barely get out a sentence without coughing and gasping for air. After the 7 am shift change doctors began ordering various tests including a chest x-ray and an EKG. While I waited on the test results, I was given oxygen to assist my breathing. That evening my doctors informed me that the pain I was experiencing was due to fluid building up on my lungs as a result of the high blood pressure. The first course of action was to administer a diuretic to help drain the fluid out of my body. Dr. Ware informed me that there was no way I could wait until 37 weeks to deliver James. At best we were looking at 34 weeks, but even that would be a stretch.

I didn't panic initially. But when a doctor from the NICU came to visit and answer any questions Brian and I had, I shut down. I absoultely couldn't believe that I was here. In this situation. This wasn't how it was supposed to be. I was supposed to have a smooth delivery via induction at 38 weeks just like I did with Thomas.

Thursday night Dr. Ware came into my room with a somber look on her face. I knew it was not good. I knew what she was going to say. My protein level was just short of where they would normally deliver James. It was likely that I would reach that level the following day.

I didn't sleep that well that night. I prayed like I haven't prayed in a really long time. I didn't really pray for my protein level to decrease. I didn't pray for James to arrive at a normal birth weight and not need the NICU. No, I simply prayed to be content. To be okay with whatever the following day's outcome would be.

As expected I was told that I would deliver that day, but due to a backed up operating room and my OB's schedule, it was unknown when I would be taken back for a c-section. The next few hours were the longest of my life. I felt like a prisoner awaiting his lethal injection, not a mom who was preparing to meet her new baby. I played over the last 30 weeks in my mind--what did I do wrong? Was this my fault? What specific action did I do to make this happen?

Around 4:30 pm the room started erupting with nurses preparing me for delivery. Anesthesiology showed up and that's where things start to get hazy.

I remember sitting in my room with Brian and the nurses wheeling me out into the hallway. My mom was standing outside my door, and I waved to her as I rode away on my glorious bed chariot.

I remember being placed on the operating table, unable to move anything below my waistline. The thin blue curtain I had seen in so many baby delivery shows was put up in front of me and I heard Dr. Bartley enter the room shortly after that.

I remember her asking, "Did you feel that?"

"No," I responded.

"Okay, well I just pinched your stomach really hard," she told me.

"Well that wasn't very nice!" Oh yeah--the drugs were working.

At that point I remember being terrified that they were going to begin operating without Brian in the room. Who would hold my hand? Who would check on James while I was stitched up? Who would walk down to the NICU with him?

I felt a huge relief when one of the nurses announced his arrival. As soon as he was by my side I reached for his hand.

I don't remember them actually telling me that they were beginning to cut, but I do remember there being a lot of pulling and strange sounds coming from behind the curtain. I remember Brian talking to me, but I don't remember what he said or what I said.

Suddenly I felt Dr. Bartley mashing on my ribcage over and over--like she was trying to kill me with CPR. Then there was a pause and I heard several people scurry over to my bed. A moment later they called Brian to the corner of the room. He left my side and that's when I heard it.

Crying. The most beautiful cry I have ever heard in my life. It was teeny, but strong. Soft, but loud. It was perfect. Tears began streaming down my face. "That's a good sound, isn't it, Momma?" Dr. Bartley asked as she and her team repaired my tummy. All I could do was nod.

Brian and the team of NICU nurses brought him by my bedside so I only got to see him for a moment, but it was cherished nonetheless.

After my surgery, I was taken back to a recovery room for about an hour. I was told that they would take me to the NICU to see him and I was itching to get out of there.

When I finally made it back there I was in love. Again, just like with Thomas, I was completely infatuated with this tiny creature that had grown and moved inside my belly. As scary as it was to see him in that incubator, hooked up to all those monitors, I knew that everything was going to be okay.

It has to be.

James' first photo.

Breathing okay on his own.

In Room #2 in the NICU.

 

Little Moments

I have been so busy and tired lately that updating has been a difficult for this Little Mama. Working full time, taking care of a three year old and building a marriage would be difficult for anyone, but it's especially difficult in your first trimester of pregnancy.

Brian and I did get a chance to take the boys to the beach this past weekend. It was nice to have a break from all the rain we've experienced in our area over the last few weeks. Sunshine and sand for 3 days? Yes, please!!

We also made the announcement to the boys about the baby, or as Thomas has named it, "Baby Dora." There is definitely some mixed emotion about it, but that was expected. I pray that they become more at ease about the situation over the next few months. The one thing they all agree on is that they hope it is a boy.

This mama's ready for a girl!

The hubby and I got some time to ourselves this week. Thomas was at the beach with his dad, while Jason and Dylan were at another beach with their mom. We have missed them like crazy, but it's been great just spending time together. It's also been great not eating anything with the word "nugget" in it.

My hope and prayer is that even with #4 coming early next year that we can continue having quiet, intimate moments like the ones we have had in the last few days. I enjoy my days with my kids, but I also like spending alone time with their dad/step-dad. He is my sweetheart and my best friend. I can't imagine going through these days without him.